


Aurora

by Tah the Trickster (TahTheTrickster)



Series: My Hero. [5]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-02
Updated: 2014-10-02
Packaged: 2018-02-19 15:31:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2393558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TahTheTrickster/pseuds/Tah%20the%20Trickster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Dragonborn has an awful sense of direction, as it turns out. This isn't the first time that it's gotten her and Lydia stranded on some gods-forsaken mountain in the middle of the night, but it's definitely the first time that Lydia's bothered trying to strike up any conversation with her about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aurora

Dar’Zahyla had the unfortunate tendency of getting us hopelessly lost.

Prior to her arrival in Whiterun, I’d heard rumors of a rogue Khajiit adventurer who’d managed to elude capture by sheer evasive traveling. I’d chalked it up to slow guards and an unusually smart adventurer at the time. Now I knew the real reason.

She had the worst sense of direction I’d _ever_ seen.

She’d been pacing back and forth for several minutes now, her nose buried in her map, alternating between looking around with a baffled expression and mumbling some spell that made her eyes glitter and hands glow blue. I’d just taken a seat on a nearby stone wall to nibble at some food while she wondered.

“This makes no sense,” she grumbled, casting her magic again.

I tore off a strip of venison with my teeth. “What?”

“We need to go _directly_ north,” she said, looking up and squinting. “My clairvoyance is leading us… southwest.” So that’s what she was casting.

“Perhaps there’s an actual _trail_ southwest,” I said dryly, chewing on the leathery meat. She also had the habit of leading us around forests with no visible trails or roads of any sort. I chalked that up to her poor sense of direction.

She didn’t look convinced. “Maybe…” Dar’Zahyla looked at me anxiously. “Which way do you think?”

I blinked. I had to admit, I wasn’t sure, myself. “The choice is yours. I’m right behind you either way.”

Dar’Zahyla wrinkled her nose as I got to my feet again. “You are little help,” she told me. “We will go north.”

We walked.

The forest grew thicker and thicker as we trudged through, to the point that Dar’Zahyla begrudgingly had to put her war hammer back in its holster. I heard her grumbling in a low, gravelly voice and nearly smirked.

“My Thane, I thought you enjoyed adventuring,” I said innocently. She merely glared.

“Yes, it is all very funny until we get attacked by wolves with no room to even breathe.”

Moments later the forest finally thinned out, and then we were on a steep, rocky path up the mountain. The angle was hard going, and Dar’Zahyla eventually put me in front of her, insisting that she could keep balance more easily than I, and so could catch me if I stumbled backwards. She flicked her tail like that would seal her point. I wasn’t convinced, but I didn’t feel like arguing. It was cold and getting dark, and I wanted to just get to an inn for the night more than anything. Knowing our luck, we’d get stranded out here for the night.

By the time we reached the summit, night had fallen entirely, and Dar’Zahyla was sick of getting lost in the mountains. I tended to agree with her, so I began setting up a rudimentary camp while my Khajiit prowled the area to make sure there were no bandits or wolves around. The fire was built to a decent level by the time she reported back, having seen no threats.

She pulled her bedroll closer to the fire and sat on top, shivering.

“Cold?” I asked.

“Very.” Dar’Zahyla tugged her map from her bag and began unfolding it, squinting in the dim firelight. “Khajiit are not meant for this... _Skyrim_ weather.”

That was right. She had told me once that she wasn’t born in Skyrim. I settled into my bedroll, resting on my elbows to continue watching her studying her map. “What is it like in Elsweyr?”

“Very warm. Not quite desert, though very sandy, yes. And with much tension.” Dar’Zahyla spared me a glance. “You have heard the Khajiit blessing, yes?”

I considered my few interactions with Khajiit beyond those with Dar’Zahyla. “The warm sands thing?”

Her eyes glittered, and I saw her smile. “Yes, ‘may your road lead you to warm sands.’ Many Khajiit are, ah… no longer welcomed there. It is both a blessing and a hope that the Khajiit may one day return to their home.” Her smiled turned sad. “Many of us would enjoy the opportunity, as it is… not likely we will be welcomed back to Elsweyr. Too much political tension, and many of us enjoy keeping our heads.” She chuckled flatly and went back to her map.

I studied her profile in the mingled fire- and moonlight. Her fur was thin and mottled shades of black and brown, far more suited to desert life than the caravans of white and gray Khajiit with long, thick fur that I’d seen. Yet here she was, much farther north than any caravan I’d ever seen, with thousands of miles between here and her homeland.

“Do you miss it?” Her ear swivelled towards me sharply. My question surprised me; that was entirely rude. “I apologize. You do not have to answer.”

Dar’Zahyla considered that for a long moment before turning to face me and scratching her ear. “Sometimes, yes. If given the opportunity, though, I would politely decline.”

I blinked and sat up entirely. “I thought you missed it?”

“ _Sometimes_. However,” she gave a genuine chuckle, “you will find that the Khajiit of Elsweyr are, ah… roughly as fond of Nords as Nords are of Khajiit, mm? I feel you would prefer keeping your _own_ head, too.” She grinned, eyes glimmering with mirth.

I could not help but smile despite the morbid joke. “And you automatically assume that I would follow you to Elsweyr? You are an arrogant one, my Thane.” It was rare that we ever really joked with one another, and I worried momentarily that I was pushing it, but she laughed aloud.

“You are the one who reminds me that she is _sworn to carry my burdens._ ” Dar’Zahyla put on a terrible Nordic accent to mock me, and I had to chuckle. “In any case, you would not enjoy Elsweyr, and so I would not go. Simple, yes?”

“You would forsake your homeland simply to stay with me?” I wasn’t sure if I was touched or just further convinced that my charge was altogether daft.

Dar’Zahyla spread her arms out in an exaggerated confused gesture. “Where in Elsweyr would I find _another_ impudent Nord to pull my tail for not paying attention and nearly walking off cliffs?” We both had to laugh at that.

“That only happened once,” I said, still chuckling, as I sank back down into my bedroll.

“Yes, and I _still_ must sit gingerly now.” She pointedly rubbed her backside as though it really did still hurt, but climbed into her own bedroll for the night as well. “Nonetheless, my point is made. You are altogether more entertaining than many Khajiit.”

“Despite my impudence.” I wouldn’t dare be so bold with her before the Jarl of Whiterun, but it was different when it was just her.

“ _Due to_ your impudence,” she corrected, and grinned. I smiled back at her.

A flicker caught my eye, and I rolled onto my back in time to see the Aurora’s thin streaks beginning to weave their way across the clear night skies. “My Thane, if I may—” I gestured towards the sky. “I don’t believe the Aurora exists in Elsweyr, mm?”

Her face went from bemused to astounded as she turned from me to the skies above. Her lips parted just a hair and her eyes went wide. She would not speak for the duration, and I was content to watch her stare.

As the lights began to fade into the black of night, she finally spoke again. Her voice was quiet, almost reverent.

“No,” she said distantly. “No, we did not have anything like _that_ , either.”


End file.
